Welcome to Fight Club
by Adora Dark
Summary: Sousuke enjoys sex and relaxes through violence. Until he meets Makoto and decides to combine those two.
1. Chapter 1

This is a story that was originally written for the SouMako week on tumblr. Please be warned that it contains Violence, yaoi and BDSM.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Yamazaki Sousuke appreciates the simple things in life. A nice football match on TV. A cold golden beer in his hand. A good joke about that loser, Nanase. Simple things really, that make his daily routine roll effortlessly. Because he is a simple man himself. He even gets angry over simple matters. And he has one simple way of easing the tension.

As he is walking through the dim-lit corridors of the club, Sousuke notices dirty water pooling on the floor. One of the pipes must be leaking again, but it doesn't bother him since it's a monthly occurrence. After all, it's an old building with an even older basement floor, but it serves its purpose just fine. The club had been Rin's idea. He had burst into his garage more than a year ago, after watching that Hollywood movie for the first time. He had listened to Rin brainstorming ideas for about two hours, before he had finally blurted out _"What the hell, sure why not?"_ , mainly for the reckless redhead to leave him in peace so he would fix his car. Of course two weeks later, Rin had showed up again with an address of the "place" he had found for the club and two morons tailing after him, the first ones who had happily joined his new whim. Sousuke had rolled his eyes.

But it turned out alright. In fact the fight club, their fight club, has been quite the underground success ever since. Cause it's a pretty straight-forward concept really. With pretty straight-forward rules. No matter who you are or what you are doing outside those walls, once you pass that rusty door and descend those semi-broken stairs, you are equal to everyone else. And you have one simple job; to kick and punch and bleed, until all the stress runs out. No hard feelings, no grudge held, no fatal wounds, all damn happy. Every morning, Sousuke feels like brand new, straight out of the box. Despite the bruises. Well, and one worn out shoulder.

He approaches Rin lazily. During weekdays, the turnout is always smaller. The redhead is holding a marker and fixing the schedule for Sunday.

"My column is blank" Sousuke checks his name on the board.

"And it will stay blank, until someone's interested in wrestling you."

"Pfft...I told you, you should have left the fights random on Sunday, just like the rest days. This is not a tournament, to have arranged matches."

"It's not my fault if you beat them all up , and now hardly anyone wants to fight against you on Sundays, big guy."

Sousuke looks around him and scratches the back of his head.

"There must be someone left. What about your old crush, Nanase?"

"Speaking of the devil..."

Down the main corridor, Nanase Haruka watches uninterested as Hazuki Nagisa, a small-time crook known in the streets, tries to sell him a wristwatch as a great deal.

"Damn that pest, I've told him to drop the haggling when he's around here." Rin runs a hand over his face, but Sousuke doesn't really pay attention. Nanase's upper lip is still badly swollen from two nights ago. Sousuke can't help it; his little achievement makes him smile. This time, the mackerel worshiper hasn't come alone though.

"Who's the beefcake tailing after the weirdo?"

Sousuke points at a tall, young man with glasses following Haruka's every step. A strong, muscled body is outlined below his white Tee and red, checkered shirt, but the guy looks totally out of his element. Judging by his horrified expression, Sousuke is willing to count down to 3, before the man scrambles away from this place.

"His latest boyfriend, Tachibana Makoto. Some student here in Tokyo."

Haruka finally walks their way and Sousuke feels a sudden urge to wipe that aloof expression off his face. Again.

"What's up, Nanase? Coming for a second round?"

Haruka casts a look full of venom at him and turns towards the board.

"All settled?"

Rin bites the marker pensively.

"Well, you are. I've signed you up with Kisumi. Just, do me a favor and ignore that bubblegum bitch if he tries to be funny before the match. There, it's done..."

"Almost..." Sousuke whistles.

"You are being a pain in the ass, and not in the nice way, you know that? If you want your damn column filled, then you go fetch me someone willing enough to face you, cause your matches have been racking my brain for a week."

"Makoto will do it."

Haruka's deadpan voice casually chims in and everyone turns at him dumbfounded. Slowly, their gazes stray to the hazel-haired man with the same surprise. Makoto gulps and smiles awkwardly.

"Hm, I don't know about this." Rin seems skeptical.

"It's ok, I will do 've discussed it with Haru before."

"Are you sure? You have no experience, the cage is tough for first timers."

"I want to try"

"And I want many things in life, not sure if I'm cut for each one of them."

"Let him take a shot."

Sousuke finally says. He has been scanning him from top to bottom all along, rubbing his chin with his thumb. And he is fairly interested.

"Let him take a shot?" Rin lifts an eye-brow in an are-you-fucking-kidding-me expression, but his dark-haired mate shrugs him off and turns around.

"Sure, let's see what he's worth. Come, Tachibana, let's get a room" he says over his shoulder and sends a sly look to Haruka's direction "no pun intended."

Makoto's eyes waver baffled between Haruka's hardened face and Sousuke's back, as the latter one is walking away. But then Haruka nods, granting his permission and Makoto hurries after the whale-shark like a confused puppy.

"You...you know my name? I didn't catch yours?"

Eventually, they all move to a spacious corner, free of any physical encounter. Heavy smells of sweat and blood are still tainting the air. Sousuke takes off his sweater, revealing a black, sleeveless undershirt that hugs his muscular body, and snaps his neck from one side to the other. Makoto removes his glasses and glances at his own attire. His denim jeans can't be compared to Sousuke's comfortable sweatpants, when Haruka had told him he should join the fight club, he hadn't exactly expected for that to happen in his first visit.

Rin explains briefly the rules and Makoto realises that, well, there are no rules. At least none of those that apply in official wrestling clubs. The first punch finds him on his jaw, and as he lifts his arms to protect his face, a second, much stronger punch, strikes his right ribs. Sousuke's attention drifts towards Haruka and Rin who are watching his little show off in silence. He has no intention of butchering this kid so early, but he really wants to harass the dolphin boy for daring to bring him such a novice opponent, instead of fighting him himself again. He smirks cockily at them, until an unexpected fist comes flying from nowhere and smudges the sly smile off his face. Sousuke staggers backwards and stares incredulously at Makoto. The student seems even more startled by what he has just done.

"Alright!"

Rin's excited voice reaches his ears, and that's enough for Sousuke to pull himself together. He dashes towards Makoto, swiftly ducks his head to avoid a blow coming his way, and hits him hard straight in the guts. The hazel-haired man feels his insides getting squashed and as he doubles up, Sousuke slides behind him and showily elbows him on the back. Makoto loses his balance and falls face down on the concrete floor. A wild cough is choking him, but still, he tries to ignore the waves of pain spreading through his body and turns quickly on his back. This time though, he is greeted by Sousuke's extended hand.

"That's enough for tonight."

Makoto grabs it and stands up with a hesitant smile. He now notices that more of the club's frequenters have been watching their short showdown, and feels his cheeks blazing up, much like Rin's crimson mane. Next thing he knows, he is already surrounded and the sharkboy is patting him on the shoulder.

"Well, that went quite well!"

"You think so?" He asks unsure, but Rin is beaming, Sousuke is nodding and even Haruka's reserved face is showing a hint of delight.

"Absolutely. I'll sign you up for Sunday's match."

"You have potential, Tachibana." Sousuke admits with honesty "You are a little clumsy and you forget to stay lower and guard your sides, but if I lose my focus on you, you waste no time and put me in disadvantage. Plus, there aren't many in this club that would get so easily back on their feet, after such a blow in the guts."

"Oh wow, I never imagined..."

"Don't let this get into your head though. I won't be gentle with you on Sunday." Sousuke adds solemnly and Makoto's smile falters.

"Don't worry, I'll be rooting for you." Rin pretends to whisper and winks at him.

"For me? Seriously?"

"Sure. Anything to see this big fella getting roughed up."

The redhead bursts into laughter and Makoto watches awkwardly as more cheering voices join him. That evening, even Haruka cracks a smile.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The night is warm and balmy on Saturday, as Sousuke cruises through the verdant park near his house. He usually jogs and sleeps early before Sunday's matches, but this time he is confident tomorrow's fight will be a stroll for him, much like the one he is enjoying now. A light breeze shuffles his hair and he decides that he should be generous tonight, perhaps treat himself a beer before heading home. Thus soon his feet bring him to a low-key bar, only ten minutes away from his lonely apartment. Needless to say, a surprised smirk colours his face as soon as he notices a familiar backside leaning over the wooden counter.

Makoto rummages in his wallet, getting ready to pay, when he feels a steady grip squeezing his shoulder.

"What's the rush, Tachibana?"

"Oh, Yamazaki-san! Never thought I'd see you here."

"I live nearby." Sousuke makes himself comfortable on a stool and offers a cigarette to his newfound companion. Makoto refuses politely.

"To be honest, I'm surprised you even drink alcohol." He says as he lights up his own and Makoto chuckles.

"I'm not made of angel-dust you know."

"You must have fooled a few souls then" Sousuke's teal shimmers through the smoke "So, what brought you in my neighbourhood?"

"I'm looking for a new place to stay and I have been checking apartments around this part of the city, as it is closer to the university. I stumbled on this bar and, since I have a pile of paperwork waiting me home, I thought a little break would be a good idea. And here I am..."

"I'm not sure if you'll find something good for its money around here though. There are lots of scammers, you'll need to search more thoroughly."

"I don't have many options really. My moving is due for next week, since my landlord needs my current flat."

"Why don't you just move in with Nanase?"

"Well...my parents wouldn't like it." Makoto's smile betrays hidden embarrassment.

"Oh come on, Tachibana. You aren't a puppy under your parents' wing anymore."

"No, you don't get it..." His emerald eyes suddenly seem distant and he lowers his shoulders, defeated. His fingers are clenching the empty beer bottle in front of him. "My parents really...really wouldn't like it..."

Sousuke understands, so he bites back whatever smartass remark he was about to say. At such moments, physical contact is not his strong card , or any type of comfort for the matter, still he lets his hand linger on Makoto's back for a few seconds.

"It's ok, I know the feeling, pal. That's the reason you came to the fight club, isn't it?"

Makoto nods in silence. He needs this burden taken away from him, if reaching to absolute zero through violence can bring him inner peace, then he is ready to fight the nights away.

"Let me buy you a drink"

"Thanks, but you really don't have to. It's getting late and I was about to leave."

"What did I say about not being a puppy anymore?" Sousuke jokes and motions at the bartender.

Two lagers come their way. And soon they become four. And then six. Until Makoto's spirits have been raised high enough and his tongue is beating his mind in a running race.

"What I honestly don't get, Sou-chan..."

"Get rid of the 'chan'.."

"What I honestly don't get, Sou-kun..."

"Seriously, Tachibana."

"...is why Rin is betting on my ass tomorrow."

"He told you, he wants to see me taking a good, old battering."

"But why? Aren't you close friends, best buddies , Batman & Robin or something?"

"Because I fucked his sister."

Sousuke says flatly and takes a sip from his beer. Makoto stares at him with mouth agape for a few moments, before straightening his back and clearing nervously his throat. A shy redness is already creeping up his face and Sousuke thinks the dork looks amusingly cute.

"I guess you haven't ever been with a woman, have you?" He asks shamelessly and cocks an eye-brow at the poor student who is now blushing furiously. Makoto just wants to dig a hole right there and bury himself deep underneath. Instead , he shakes his head briefly and reaches for his beer.

"I figured. What about a man?"

Makoto almost spills his drink.

"You know, I think I should be offended."

"You are right, I forgot you and Nanase are dating" Sousuke rolls his eyes inwardly. "Let me rephrase. Have you ever been with a _real_ man?"

Their gazes lock for a minute that mirrors eternity. Glowing sapphire boring into warm jade and , suddenly, Makoto notices Sousuke is leaning closer, while his knee has been lightly brushing against his thigh. He gulps, but manages to keep a straight face.

"I'm not that drunk, Sousuke."

The raven-haired male grins and pulls back a bit.

"I didn't think you needed to be."

Makoto chuckles at Sousuke's boldness, but , truth is, his palms are already sweating. He finishes his beer and checks his wristwatch nervously.

"If you have a decision to make or somewhere to go, then do it. Looking at the time won't change anything."

Sousuke has a unique way to look and sound aloof even when sexual tension can be cut with a knife. He spares a single glance at the hazel-haired man and keeps on enjoying his smoke. Makoto on the other hand is treading on a plank, unsure if he should dive in the turbulent sea and drown , or stay aboard and burn down with the ship. He can feel alcohol's therapeutic abilities already loosening his inhibitions, but there is something inside Sousuke's aquamarine eyes that has been tantalizing his interest from the very moment they met. Eventually, he bites his lower lip and knows well he's already going to Hell.

"And what if I don't have anywhere particular to go?"

Sousuke studies him thoughtfully for a bit, unable to decide if the dork is toying with him or he actually means what he says. In the end, he takes the risk and goes with the flow, because, frankly, that's how Sousuke is forged; he can never back down from a challenge.

"Then my place is only ten minutes away."


	2. Chapter 2

The warnings of first chapter apply here too. ****

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Sousuke's apartment is full of simple, strict lines and steel. The small kitchen is separated from the colorless living room by a sleek counter. A wide plasma screen is set opposite to a long, leather sofa and a modern coffee table made of glass. And that's pretty much all there is for Makoto to see as he enters his rival's lair. Well, there's also a single surreal painting hanging on the otherwise naked walls, depicting a monstrous whale-shark deep within the ocean's dark waters. It's quite chilling and Makoto doesn't glance a second time at it.

"I'm afraid there's only coke and water in here" Sousuke rests his arm on the fridge door, as he goes through it. "Want me to get you anything?"

"No, I'm good."

Makoto's green eyes are now examining the spotlights on the ceiling. Their bright light makes the place look even colder. There's a locked door that Makoto assumes must be the bathroom, and another one that leads to an obscure room. From where he is standing, in the middle of the narrow living room, he can distinguish the outline of a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Completely absorbed by his tactless inspection, Makoto feels a sudden jolt of nervousness when he senses Sousuke's eyes on him. Back leaning against the counter, muscular arms folded on his chest, the dark haired man has been watching him closely while he's staring around like an idiot.

"Not very cosy, huh?"

"More like sterile and emotionless."

His remark makes Sousuke laugh, which brings a strange sense of relief and soothes the tension that has been burdening him ever since he accepted the taller man's offer. Until Sousuke's voice drops suddenly an octave.

"Take off that anime shirt."

Makoto looks down at his white, geeky shirt with the colourful stamp on it.

"That's Fairy Tail's emblem. It's an anime about..."

"Yes, I know, some shounen silliness. Now, take it off and turn around."

There's something irresistibly sexy in Sousuke's commanding voice, because Makoto does as told without giving it another thought. Besides, his bare back is such a sight to behold; endless valleys and ripples of tanned skin that beg to be touched with each muscle stretch. Sousuke licks his lips.

"How did a student like you get finely ripped like that? In your uni's auditorium?"

"I used to be a swimmer back in high school." Makoto explains over his shoulder and the top of his ears is already burning red.

Sousuke moves closer and runs a hand over his sun-touched back, fondling his way from the middle of his waist to his luscious trapezius muscle.

"I almost feel sad I'll have to batter this perfection tomorrow."

"You keep talking as if I will be going down without a serious fight."

Sousuke presses his solid chest against Makoto's body and lets his tongue trail a wet path along his neck, before he breathes out husky words next to his ear.

"Oh you will be going down alot, that's for sure."

With Sousuke glued behind him, Makoto is ironically facing the exit. His eyes are nailed on the door and, despite the fire fueled into him thanks to Sousuke's restless mouth on his flesh, he can't push aside the urge to twist the silver knob and get the hell out of there. He already feels guilty of the crime he is about to commit and a dozen of different scenarios are rushing fast through his mind. Of course, none of them has a pleasant ending. But then Sousuke's intrusive hand slides down and squeezes him hard over his denim crotch. And Makoto's eyelids drop heavy in surrender.

Slowly, they move to the black , leather sofa. Makoto's jeans are unbuttoned before he knows it and Sousuke sighs in relief when he is greeted by plain blue and not anime boxers. Soon, Makoto's large shaft is beautifully glistening within his hand. That damn fucker Nanase has hit the jackpot for sure.

He starts pumping him in a slow but steady rhythm and he leans over his body, his teeth finding a hardened but eager nipple. Makoto hisses as Sousuke starts leaving hungry bites on his golden pectorals. But when his mouth is finally ready to be captured, he instinctively resists and Sousuke has to hold him by the nape and force him into it.

The kiss feels weird at first. It's nothing like Haruka's passionate kisses, or like that awkward but sweet first kiss he had shared once upon a time in middle school. It's not even as forceful and needy as he had imagined it to be. There's much experience into it, underlined by a unique and controlled intensity. And there's something more; there's power. This kiss is compelling, it's dominant without being hard, it's sensual without being soft. It doesn't just leave Makoto wanting more, it convinces him he is unworthy of more until his master decides so.

Sousuke breaks free from their liplock and instinctively Makoto follows his lips, still enchanted. But a strong grip on the back of his head cancel his advances, and he is guided down south instead. Obediently, he unzips Sousuke's pants and is welcomed by a small surprise; Sousuke despises underwear. He should have expected this from someone like him.

Wasting no time, Makoto gets down to business. The kind of business he knows he excels at. His mouth sucks Sousuke's impressive penis in sync with the man's strokes on his own throbbing manhood. His tongue swirls with ease around the burning flesh and Sousuke relaxes on the leather cushions. It doesn't take him long to ejaculate straight into Makoto's mouth, without a single warning, and he watches pleased as the startled hazel-haired pulls back half an inch, but immediately resumes his job and swallows every sweet drop.

When their eyes meet again, Makoto is swimming in sheer happiness, feeling also his own climax getting closer. He leans in to taste Sousuke's lips once more, when, suddenly, the raven-haired removes his hand and stands up. Makoto's jaw drops when he hears the zip going up. Sousuke has just walked away, leaving him with his dick in his hand. Literally.

The spotlights are turned on in the next room and Sousuke calls for him. He follows, trying to hush down his painful erection.

As expected, the room with the punching bag is the bedroom. Surprisingly, it's visibly bigger and more spacious than the joint kitchen and living room. Simplicity reigns here as well. There's a double bed with navy sheets and a small nightstand next to it, with only an alarm clock on its surface. A suspiciously large cupboard is covering entirely one of the walls, from one end to the other. The punching bag is hanging near a corner, with various lifting weights laying on the floor underneath it. There's nothing more in the bedroom. Nothing, except a massive hook made of steel that is hanging from the ceiling by a heavy chain. Like a sinister omen.

Sousuke motions at Makoto to come closer. They kiss again, while Sousuke frees him from both his jeans and boxers. They drop on the floor and Makoto steps out of them without disrupting their intimate contact. Sousuke's arms encircle him and his hands cup his firm gluteal muscles.

"There's not a single inch of your body that isn't well-toned."

Sousuke whispers and Makoto smiles, ready to answer, when a thick finger starts teasing his rear opening. Sousuke chuckles at his reaction and attacks his lips anew, sucking on his tongue, just as his finger sinks past his anus' folds. With each thrust, Makoto is moaning against his mouth. A second finger joins shortly the happy drilling, and Makoto clings to him before his knees go limp. He is uncontrollably humping against Sousuke now, the fact he can feel the taller man's swelling inside his pants, driving him insane. His hand moves greedily to Sousuke's zipper, but he blocks it.

"Not yet. Let's play a bit."

Makoto pouts.

"Well, take off something at least, it's unfair."

"You just had me fucking your throat, Tachibana."

"It's not the same" he murmurs and Sousuke can't believe the dork is blushing again at his natural bluntness, despite his state of undress. This time though, he succumbs to Makoto's will and takes off his black shirt while walking up to the wide cupboard. Before such a robust body, Makoto bites his lip in anticipation. If they don't fuck like animals within the next five minutes, he'll explode.

But then Sousuke opens one of the cabinet doors. And Makoto snaps out of his ecstasy.

An entire collection of BDSM items is dangling in front his eyes. Bondage cuffs and mittens, spreader bars, whips and other various ropes, ball gags and spanking paddles, even a complete gimp suit , are all parts of Sousuke's kinky treasure. There are also a few menacing, blunt objects that Makoto can't even name. Sousuke rummages in a drawer and returns with some fluffy toys in his one hand and a bottle of lube in his other. Makoto takes a step back.

"Come on, you have to try these."

He shows him a pair of black cat ears and a cat tail butt plug.

"What the heck, Sousuke?"

"Hmm, except if you like better something else from my equipment?"

"No!" Makoto grabs Sousuke's wrists, in case he fetches a new horror from his cupboard. "These are fine. But...are they necessary?"

"Yes. I want to open you up...Properly..." Sousuke invades his personal space and exhales on his lips. Tiny, erotic shivers tip-toe all the way to Makoto's groin. "Now lie on the bed and spread for me."

Makoto obeys and spreads his buttocks, while Sousuke applies plenty of lube on the butt plug. Once both cat ears and tail are set, he smiles at Makoto's embarrassed face quite amused.

"Look at you! You are even cuter than Gou was."

Makoto rolls his eyes, but in reality he secretly enjoys that stretching sensation.

"I just hope you clean them thoroughly."

"Don't worry, I know my kinks. Hold on a second"

Sousuke brings a camera and Makoto's eyes widen in shock.

"No! Sousuke, no."

"It's just for my own pleasure, Tachibana. I won't be showing them to anyone, what kind of a man you take me for?"

"You really don't wanna know right now"

Sousuke leans in and twists the tail a bit, making Makoto muffle a moan as the plug brushes against his prostate. He trails open kisses on Makoto's neck, his teeth grazing the inflamed skin. When Makoto's groans of pleasure turn louder, he rakes his fingers through his hazel hair and abruptly pulls a fistful of it.

"As I said, those are for me. Now, be a good kitty and hug that punchbag."

Eyes of teal are burning on Sousuke's humourless face and Makoto submits. So there he goes, posing with his arms around the punchbag and his ass stuck out, on all four while wiggling his tail, with his fingers curled into fists as a cute kitten ready for some boxing. And the list would go on, if Sousuke wasn't getting a boner just by looking at his new pet.

He embraces Makoto from behind and tugs gently at his balls. As a reflex, Makoto grinds his butt against him and steadies himself on the punchbag. He wants the plug replaced already with Sousuke's meaty rod, but the dark-haired man has other plans. His hand envelops Makoto's penis and begins to rub it hard.

"Purr for me"

And he does. Makoto can't believe his own voice, but those are definitely cat sounds that escape his lips with every stroke. He's already sensitive from all the teasing, thus his orgasm is building fast. Sousuke bites him hard on his back muscles and speeds up his pumping. And Makoto is already seeing stars. But as he is about to unload his white euphoria , Sousuke squeezes his cock. He squeezes it shut.

Makoto growls in pain.

"What the f..."

Sousuke's palm silences him and he resumes his tormenting stroking. Once, twice, Makoto is on the verge of coming again. Shut.

Tears are pooling into his emeralds now. Muffled words are heard and Sousuke releases his mouth cause he wants to hear him saying it loud and clear.

"Please..."

That's all it takes. A gentle kiss on his cheek, a final pull on his dick and Makoto paints the floor white. His chest is heaving and he is hinging upon the punchbag to avoid collapsing.

"That was..."

"Intense, I know"

Too breathless to shape words, Makoto shakes his head in agreement.

"But you spotted my shining floor."

"I guess...I kinda did..."

"Why don't you lick it clean?"

Makoto laughs. When Sousuke remains silent, he straightens his back and frowns at him.

"You don't really...like, you know...mean it?"

"You are a kitten. Pretend it is milk."

"Now wait a minute..."

Sousuke sighs. They always object at this stage. Swiftly, he elbows him on the back and trips him up with his leg. Makoto is toppled over the glossy tiles.

"Damn it, Sousuke!"

Waves of pain spread through his body and he attempts to get back on his feet, but Sousuke presses a knee on top of him, trapping him down. Finally, Makoto decides to play along. It's not his semen that bothers him, he has tasted that countless times before. It's the humiliation.

Once he starts lapping it up, Sousuke kneels beside him. He gently cups his face and guides him into his arms. This time their kiss is deeply tender. His tongue slowly explores his mouth bit by bit, as if he craves to savor every drop of semen. It's almost a ritual.

"What do you say we change animal?"

The plug makes a popping sound when it's pulled out. The cat ears follow suit.

"I am not gonna embody the whole zoo."

Sousuke brings his thumb to Makoto's succulent lips, sweeping lightly the moisture found there. Unable to resist, Makoto darts shyly the tip of his velvet tongue and caresses the thick digit.

"Just do it for me."

The hazel-haired complies with a sigh.

"Fine. But no pictures taken this time."

Sousuke grins and reveals a wooden box from behind his back. The bastard must have snatched it while Makoto was too busy catching his breath. First, he retrieves a leather dog collar with metal spikes. He adjusts it around Makoto's neck and briefly tests the iron chain attached to it. Then, he takes out a rubber penis and brandishes it in the air like a trophy.

"This will be your bone."

"My bone..."

"Exactly, you are a dog, it's a treat"

"Of what breed?"

Sousuke sneers.

"Interesting sense of humour, Tachibana."

"It's not like there's another way to swallow what's been happening."

The bed's mattress sinks slightly under Sousuke's weight. He throws the rubber penis towards the door and his solemn face orders Makoto to fetch it. The floor is cold and hard against his knees, as he creeps on all four. But when he is about to stretch out his arm and grab the offensive toy, the collar tightens around his throat and he is dragged backwards viciously. Makoto coughs.

"Use your teeth."

He obeys his owner like a proper dog, and soon he is sent to fetch his bone again. And again. And again. Sometimes the sex toy lands very far, and it takes extra effort for him to reach it. It doesn't help that Sousuke forcefully pulls the chain every time, turning their little game into a struggle. The dog collar is strangling him with every yank, his knees are already sore from the constant crawling, occasionally he chokes within his own tears, and yet, the painful erection slowly forming between his legs betrays him. His body, the traitor, has decided to manifest his masochistic side for good.

He is curled up at Sousuke's feet now, nuzzling his inner thigh with his face. From his position, he can admire the massive bulge threatening to break free from Sousuke's pants and a ravenous need overrides his nerves. Makoto lusts after his master's attention, he aches to feel him deep inside him, screwing him like an animal. Hell, at this point, he might as well start barking. His teeth pull slowly the zipper down and Sousuke lets him this time. His cock rests to the side, heavy and solid, worthy of an alpha male and Makoto feels saliva pooling among his gums, as if he has been denied food and water for ages. And just as he is ready to immerse himself in this oral pleasure, Sousuke hurls away the rubber phallus.

If Makoto was a real hound, he would have killed him by now.

Reluctantly, he drags his body towards the toy once again, feeling the bones of his knees cracking with each move. Midway, a raw force yanks him backwards. Only this time, it's not the chain. Sousuke is tightly grabbing his hips, preventing him from crawling any further. His fingers interlace with his light brown mane and violently pulls it back, urging Makoto to arch his body. He bites hungrily on Makoto's smooth shoulder, branding him his property and then, in one swift motion, he buries himself inside him. To the hilt.

Their slick bodies slap against each other as Sousuke drives into him with increasing force. Every thrust elicits Makoto's cries. Every squeeze makes Sousuke's jaw clench. Sprawled on the naked floor. Screwing the night away like animals. At points, Sousuke tugs at the chain and Makoto's eyes are brimming with 's a scalding agony radiating through his insides, but Makoto is past caring. It only makes him push back against Sousuke's pelvis with more zeal. Because Makoto longs to be manhandled like he knows his place. And because Sousuke is godlike. He looks like a God. He fucks like a God. He is _his_ God.

Yes, that's right. Sousuke is Icarus and Makoto is his chariot. Who cares if they are riding too close to the scorching Sun.

They both quiver as they reach their peaks. Sousuke's movements become more disjointed as he rides out the last, lingering remains of his orgasm, before he crumbles on his lover's back. Makoto's worn out knees give away and they both collapse on the floor.

Fifteen minutes later, Makoto is still on the cold floor. Sousuke has disappeared somewhere in the bathroom and Makoto is resting his battered body against the bed's frame. He would climb onto the bed, if it didn't look too much of a hassle. The last droplets of sweat are drying out on the plains of his chest, but he still feels too tired to even stand up. If tonight's endeavors are Sousuke's devious plan to completely wear him out before the match, then he can be content with himself; he has succeeded.

The devil soon enters the room. And he is whistling.

"Are you ok, Tachibana? You feel you can handle a bit more?"

Makoto is unsure about the answer, but he witnesses with surprise his docile self nodding . Sousuke examines his state for a few moments, a race of thoughts going through his head. Then, silently, he opens the cupboard's gate of Hell once more. This time he is dragging a bundle of thick ropes and leather straps with him.

"I want you to trust me on this, ok? I've tried it plenty of times in the past. I promise we'll be done after this."

A satin blindfold covers Makoto's eyes and his world fades to black.

He hears the clinking sound of the chain getting unclasped from his dog collar, while something heavier replaces it. He can sense Sousuke moving smoothly around him and a shiver flows from his temples all the way to the tip of his penis. Soon, what he understands to be a bondage rope harness, is wrapped around his shoulders. Coarse ropes are tightened over his body and upper arms, while hard leather straps are tied carefully around his sides, his upper leg and through the groin. He feels his limbs getting squeezed together and something heavy and metalic is burdening his chest, dramatically hindering his breathing. And then he is swept off his feet.

Startled, Makoto tries to squirm around but he finds it nearly impossible. He hears a second clink and, suddenly, all the blood is drained from his cells as gravity takes over. He is finally suspended. By the hook on the ceiling.

Makoto's breath hitches when Sousuke pulls the end of a rope. It's like he is constricted by a dozen of snakes, and yet it feels incredible. The straps furrow his flesh, leaving red, serpentine marks each time they are tightened. Weight is pulling him down, hook is keeping him up and all this madness has him reeling in sexual rapture. Sousuke repeats the process several times and Makoto's lungs heave whenever the vice is loosened. He has never felt so utterly vulnerable before, so helpless and powerless. So alive.

The big vein on his shaft is ready to explode and when he feels something wet and soft tantalizing the sensitive tip, he desperately tries to buck his hips in response. But his restraints deem every attempt to move futile and hurt his body so much, that he is left to writhe in agony. Again and again Sousuke's mouth is there to tease him, offer him pleasure with his experienced strokes, only to take it away from him with each abrupt yank of the ropes. And that only causes his need for release to become more intense.

"Fuck!"

Makoto pants sharply. He doesn't even remember when it was the last time he cursed.

Time grovels before him, each moment of ache passing excruciatingly slowly. He wants to cry out, to beg Sousuke to quicken his pace, but the slightest motion of his chest sends a new wave of pain burning through his body. The smell of blood is tickling his nostrils and a sting slices him under his right ribs. There, where a leather strap is tied more viciously than it should have been. And, still, his tortuous climax is rising higher and higher...and higher...

When Makoto finally comes, pain and elation become one as they numb his mind and make his anchored body swing back and forth. Like a puppet. Once he is unhooked, he nearly collapses on Sousuke. The sturdy male supports him and unties him with ease. The blindfold is soaked and his emeralds are shattered into smithereens. He has been crying.

Sousuke guides him to bed, and for the first time his bruised back is allowed to revel in softness. He lays there, exhausted and broken, with a blissful smile on his lips. A naked oxymoron. Every fiber of his skin has melted, every muscle of his body is strained. And when Sousuke parts his thighs and carefully enters him, Makoto is too tired to respond. He wishes he could, because Sousuke is flooding him with affection now, his pelvic motions are slow and gentle, his mouth places tender, feathery kisses all around his face. Because Sousuke is making love to him. But he has been denied the right to return this sentiment. And a part of him hates Sousuke for that.

Once Sousuke finishes, he rolls off and sinks in the mattress with a sigh. He pulls Makoto into his strong embrace and his lips gently touch his forehead. Makoto buries his face into the crook of Sousuke's neck and inhales that heavy, intoxicating scent of a man that has just fulfilled the role he is destined by nature.

"Get some sleep, Tachibana."

The hazel-haired man trails his fingers behind the shell of Sousuke's ear. He caresses lovingly the dark hair he finds there. It's damp with sweat.

"Just call me Makoto."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Sousuke's eyes wander around the various faces swarming the basement. The cage is crowded tonight.

Makoto is standing across him, barefoot in a plain white T-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. He doesn't look lost like the first time he entered the club, but Sousuke can tell all the cheering voices are making him nervous. And rightfully so, since everyone is siding with Sousuke tonight. Well, everyone except the sharkboy and that loser, Nanase, who are watching in silence by the cage's entrance.

Rin signals the beginning of the match and Sousuke sends him a flying kiss, before he charges at his opponent. He is pleasantly surprised when Makoto evades his first attacks and even manages to block one that would otherwise severe his handsome face. The dork has finally paid some attention to the advice he was given.

The same doesn't happen with the next series of blows though, as Sousuke becomes more competitive. Few of them sink in his abdomen and as Makoto creases like a piece of paper, Sousuke kicks him hard on the knees. The very knees, he knows well, have been sore since the previous night. Makoto loses his step and Sousuke grabs the chance to violently headbutt him straight on the face.

Makoto is knocked off, dazed and confused. Blood is gushing from a cut on his cheekbone and he smears it around with the back of his palm. In his haze, he distinguishes the menacing whale-shark stamp on Sousuke's black wife-beater, as he is coming closer. He is dragging long chains with him, their cringe-worthy rattling reverberating through the basement. Immediately, a primal fear conquers Makoto. The scene unfolding before him looks painfully familiar.

Before he finds time to react, Sousuke drags him to the cage walls and chains him there by the arms. Makoto wiggles in despair and watches trapped as Sousuke walks in rounds with his fists in the air, stirring the crowd. Memories of whatever ordeal he endured the previous night flash before his green eyes. The pain and the ecstasy, the shame and the hankering, every panic and every emotion he experienced, come back to him full force. They overwhelm his mind like a torrent. His muscles vibrate fiercely under the weight of his restraints. He can't let Sousuke do this to him again. He can't. He won't.

A wild roar rips the air apart, and, as Sousuke turns around, his eyes widen. Makoto has broken free from his chains. He lunges at Sousuke with such force, practically pouncing on him like a lion, that they both drop down on the ground. Their bodies roll together, until Makoto manages to trap Sousuke's biceps under the weight of his knees. Tables have turned dramatically and jabs rain down on Sousuke's shocked face. The man on top of him is not Makoto. His eyes have perished their sparkling, green shade. All he can now see in his depths is a dark jade morass.

Finding back his flexibility, Sousuke shoves him off and staggers as he attempts to get on his feet. Something hot is streaming down his face, blurring his vision and Sousuke can taste the tangy flavor of dirt and blood inside his mouth. He hits Makoto with all his might, knocking him down. But the moment his rival is on the ground, he assaults Sousuke's thigh like a rabid dog. The raven-haired man howls and tries to jerk him off, but Makoto's teeth have snapped around his flesh like a hunting trap. In the end, he nearly uproots his hair, but he manages to force him back up.

There's a fragile second in time that the world inside that cage turns still. It's when their gazes meet, smoldering teal sinking in deranged emerald. And then, Sousuke's receives a rocklike hit right above his groin and collapses with a loud thud. Shaking his head, he instantly makes an effort to rise up, but he fails. There's an odd load pinning his body down, heavy as a boulder. His face winces in realization. His right shoulder has been dislocated. It rarely happens anymore, but when it does, it also means the fight has pretty much come to an end for him.

Sousuke raises his left arm, signalling he's out and the crowd starts yelling. Even though blood is clotting around his eyes, Sousuke can still see Makoto a few meters away from him. And he is the last man standing.

Meanwhile, Rin is staring with mouth agape, Haruka is smirking and cheeky Nagisa is patting lightly their backs.

"If you had let me set up an actual betting before the match, you two bitches would have been rich now."

"No kidding..." is all that Rin mutters, as he continues to stare.

And Haruka continues to smirk.

Thirty minutes later, the fight club has moved on with its routine. A different match, a new chapter. Sousuke is sitting alone on a bench in one of the poorly lit hallways. He keeps a cloth filled with ice around his left eye and his thigh is bandaged. His right shoulder is still killing him, but at least it's back at its place.

When he hears footsteps echoing in the corridor, he doesn't need to glance up to know who it is. Only one man would come check on him at this point.

"Hey...how are you?"

"How does it look like I am?"

"A mess..."

Makoto falters and Sousuke would rolls his eyes if they weren't swelling. The dork feels guilty already.

"Don't start with the pity party now."

"I'm really sorry."

"Oh, cut the crap, Tachibana. I don't need your sympathy. We fought fair and square. And you won. You came here and did exactly what you were supposed to do. That's the thing about Fight Club. There's no remorse. You'll get used to it after the first weeks."

The cloth is drenched in water and Sousuke's face twitches lightly, as he stretches to pick up more ice.

"Here, let me do this."

Makoto takes the cloth from his hand and reaches for the ice bucket. He fills it again, and tenderly dabs the ugly bruises. Slowly, Sousuke places his hand on top of his, and lets his thumb trail gentle circles on his skin. The dork lowers his gaze , blushing away.

"I think that Rin and some of the guys will be going for a beer after the last match. Will you be joining them?"

Makoto shakes his head.

"I can't. I'm supposed to be at the uni's lab early tomorrow morning. And I have to find a good excuse why my face looks like this."

He points at the wide cut under his right eye. The single blemish from tonight's fight, on his otherwise perfect and gorgeous face.

"I actually managed to leave a mark on you? How embarrassing..." Sousuke laughs defying any physical pain "...you have to tell me your secret method though. Whoever has the upper hand in bed, gets his ass handed to him in fight ? That's how it works with you?"

"Pretty much" Makoto smiles and his face lights up.

"Rin was asking if you'll be fighting next Sunday. I am warning you, though. I want my title back and I'll do anything to get it. Anything."

"Don't worry, Sousuke, I'll be ready. I have to leave now, please tell Rin to sign me up."

He stands up and Sousuke watches as he is walking away. A thought dances on his mind briefly, before he calls his name.

"Hey Makoto!...Saturday, around ten. My place?"

The student nods and quickens his pace, leaving the club before anyone notices his sudden resemblance to a beet. Sousuke's lips slowly curl up to a faint smile. He really means what he has just said. He really is willing to do anything just to beat Makoto this time. Even if that involves wearing a dog collar all night long.

 **The End  
**

* * *

I'm considering of writing a sequel to this story with more SouMako smut , only this time adding Gou to their kinks, and also give their edgy relationships a nice and proper closure. Regardless, thanks for reading! **  
**


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